


fighting like hell for you

by lizee



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Bottom Zayn, Canon Compliant, Come Shot, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, HERE U ARE!, M/M, Making Love, Making Up, Porn With Plot, Top Liam, for the anon who asked if i'd be writing bottom zayn, like ...theres SOME plot in here..., some angst but not rly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 12:44:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6424669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizee/pseuds/lizee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It doesn’t feel real.  His skin is still vibrating, a light buzzing almost.  Every thing he feels is ten times more.  He can’t sleep at night, he can’t taste things the same way, he can’t erase the images that replay in his mind over.  And over.  And over.  The scene is vivid--Liam yelling with tears pooled in his eyes as he tells him.  No, he begs him.  He begs Zayn to stay.  To not leave him."</p><p>Zayn learns to live without Liam after the split, but always finds himself coming back to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fighting like hell for you

**Author's Note:**

> title from kaleidoscope eyes by panic! at the disco

_ March, the night after _

It doesn’t feel real.  His skin is still vibrating, a light buzzing almost.  Every thing he feels is ten times more.  He can’t sleep at night, he can’t taste things the same way, he can’t erase the images that replay in his mind over.  And over.  And over.  The scene is vivid--Liam yelling with tears pooled in his eyes as he tells him.  No, he begs him.  He begs Zayn to stay.  To not leave him.

“This was  _ our _ dream.  This was for us.  This is us, Zayn.  I--” A hiccup in between his breaths. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t think you can understand, Li,” Zayn had said, looking everywhere but those dark brown eyes.  The ones that made him feel guilty.  “This is for me.”

“I want to try and understand.”  And God, that got to Zayn because after telling the four of them everything -- being uncomfortable, wanting a different scene, how this all wasn’t him.  And they all tossed him aside.  Louis lashed out.  Harry said nothing.  And Niall just looked like he had been kicked.  They were a dream team; they worked so hard together to fit this image that Zayn couldn’t pretend to be anymore.  But Liam, he was different.  He reached out to Zayn and looked for understanding. 

Liam had stepped closer to him and cupped Zayn’s hands in his face and whispered, “Please help me understand.”  And so Zayn tried.  He let out these ugly, broken sobs about how he was done playing the part of...whatever the band was.  He was done being some pawn in this sick game of fame and fortune.  He was done.  And Liam was right there next to him, whispering apologies and offering the comforting rub on the shoulder, the occasional hug.

And when Zayn was done Liam stood there, almost empty, and said, “I understand now.  You can go.”  Zayn didn’t even think his heart could break further past that point but it did.  It did. His heart shattered because this was Liam’s acceptance.  He had come to terms that he just couldn’t do it anymore.  

So Zayn pressed his forehead to his, both of their wet cheeks touching, and said his thanks and his goodbyes.  And he pushed his lips forward, capturing Liam in what he hoped wasn’t their last kiss because Liam was his life force.  Liam had been there from the very beginning, supporting Zayn and encouraging him, being his biggest fan.  And Zayn wanted him there ‘til the end.

Zayn struggles to fall asleep that night.

_ April _

He’s grown accustomed to it all--the paps, the angry tweets, the death threats.  But he’s also gotten used to the overwhelming support from the people who still called themselves fans.  He still doesn’t talk to the lads--it’s too raw.  Everything is.  They treat him like he’s a joke, or maybe like some sort of ghost with the way that they still talk about him, but don’t answer it directly.  It’s all bullshit, every single word they spew.  They make him look like the bad guy.  But maybe he is.  But he doesn’t mind.  That’s their way of coping.

Liam, though, Liam never says a word against Zayn.  It’s endless support because that’s who Liam is.  He reminds Zayn of a puppy, brimming with loyalty and trust.  It had scared Zayn when they first met because he knew that trust could be mistaken for naivety which then in turn becomes manipulation.  And in this industry, he knows that there are people who would completely take advantage of Liam.  Hell, their own management did it, setting Liam up with every fucking sweet girl they saw and it made Zayn’s blood boil.  But that isn’t any of his business anymore.  He only has to focus on himself because it’s just him now.  But it’s undeniable--the ache and guilt that sits restlessly in the pit of his stomach, the feeling of missing something.

_ January _

He doesn’t really expect it, actually doesn’t even recognize the number, but he could never forget the warm, deep voice that greets him.

“Zayn?”

“Leeyum?”

And there it is, the call he’s been waiting for.  He can feel his heart practically tighten, or, he doesn’t know.  His body is overwhelmed with these feelings of loneliness, for the first time in a couple of months.  Zayn’s been enjoying these months of solitude, but now there’s this sudden longing to be with his boys again, even if they don’t want him back.

“Zaynie! God, I’m..I’m sorry for not talking much, ‘cept for that brief text back.  I just wanted to congratulate you on the, erm, the single.”

Zayn’s mouth feels like cotton, and he’s back to where he was on the first night.  His senses are heightened and everything is blurry and unclear, but maybe it’s the tears in his eyes.  His knees are weak and he struggles to stand because it’s too much.  He loves Liam, but he fucking hates him.  He hates him for making him miss what he left behind because he’s not supposed to miss it. 

“Thanks, Li,” he replies quietly into the phone, not daring to say more, fearing that he’s going to start sobbing.  That’s the last thing he wants to do.  He doesn’t want to give Liam the idea that he made the wrong decision.  He didn’t.  This is the right thing.  He should be doing this.  The success from the single proves all of that.

It’s a few seconds of silence, like neither of them know what to say, until the silence is cut.  “I miss you a lot.”  And Zayn has to strain his ears to hear the admission, the blatant honesty and sadness that lines the sentiment.

Zayn feels weak for replying but he does because he wants Liam to know.  “I miss you, too.  I’m sorry, Li, I’m sorry.”  And it starts to spill like the floodgates have opened.  His cheeks are wet again, but this time there’s no Liam to hold him.  

“You did the right thing.  We’re not mad.  Look at you, Z, look at you.  You’re...you’re successful.  I’m proud of you.  We’re proud of you, even if we can’t say it.  Please, just....did you listen to the album?”

Zayn lets out a nervous chuckle into the phone.  “Frankly, I couldn’t.  Hurt a bit too much.  I’d rather not hear the lads’ passive aggressive words ‘bout me, yeah?”

Liam echoes the chuckle, and Zayn can practically envision his face going red.  He knows the bitterness, the tension between the five of them.  He can’t blame them.  “They’ll get over it, but anyway, what I meant is that...you’ll find your way back to us.  Walking in the Wind.  ‘Goodbyes are bittersweet. This is not the end, I’ll see your face again.’  Give it a listen, yeah? A couple weeks ago the paps reminded me of your birthday.”

Zayn smiles fondly.  He watched the video, where Liam had so boldly, so openly stated that he still loved Zayn, that he would never,  _ ever _ replace him.  “Yeah.”

“Miss you, Zaynie.”

“Miss you, too, Li.”

Zayn doesn’t stop listening to Walking in the Wind for a good month or so.

_ February _

Zayn’s eyes bore back at himself, his palms pressed against the bathroom sink.  He’s nervous--this is the first time Liam and him have met up since the incident.  It’s meant to be a secret writing session.  They had always wanted this, to break off and write their own music together.  It was usually Liam and Louis or all five of them together that made the big hits, but Liam and Zayn occasionally wrote together.

Zayn had decided with his manager that they needed a second opinion, a second thought on the album.  Personally, Zayn was proud of his album, but he wanted it to bring critiqued.

He hears the doorbell at the front ring and he leaves the bathroom with hesitance.  He pads down the hallway, maybe taking shorter strides than usual, as if prolonging the moment.  With a deep breath, he twists the knob to the door and is greeted with that familiar pair of brown eyes.  Ones he’s missed for so long.  And he’s suddenly pulled into a tight, warm hug, Liam’s face buried in his neck.

“Missed you so much, you’ve done so well, ‘m so proud of you.”  They stay like that for a couple minutes, eyes shut and hugging each other close.  But Zayn doesn’t know what this is.  He left the band hopelessly in love with Liam (and frankly, he still is), and they never determined on what was next.  They had the occasional fuck around here and there, hooking up after shows, because it was obvious that Liam reciprocated some sort of feeling for Zayn.

“Let’s get writing, yeah?”

. . .

The writing session goes well.  Liam’s still just as talented, if not better, than when Zayn had left.  Their vocals work beautifully together, as if their voices were made to compliment each other.  The harmonies seem to form flawlessly, effortlessly.  It’s captivating.

“‘S a shame you can’t collab with me on this album,” Zayn admits a little sadly, staring at the piano keys.  

“We’ve collaborated for  _ five years _ , Zayn,” Liam chuckles, rubbing his neck with his hand (a nervous habit).  “I think it’s your time to shine.”

And it’s surreal to Zayn, how easy Liam accepts this when just last year he had begged him not to leave.

“You’re okay with all of this?” Zayn asks, looking at Liam.  He sees a flash of something, he’s not sure what, in the other man’s eyes.  It reminds him of when he first met Liam--this curly-haired boy that was all crinkly eyes and warm smiles, but held a lot more than that.  It was before he knew Liam.  Now, it feels as if he’s missed something important in the boy’s life.

“‘F course, Zayn.  I’ll always be here, right next to you,” Liam replies, and his eyes sparkle with the genuity Zayn’s come to adore.  They finish working on the song, and Zayn’s not sure if he wants to put it on the album.  It’s too personal.  It means too much.  It’s not for the public, it’s for him, and maybe Zayn’s a little selfish, but this is something that he and Liam made together.  No one else.

“The album sounds good, you know.  I listened to that copy you sent me.”

“Glad you like it.”

Liam opens his mouth, as if to say more, but quickly shuts it.  “What is it, Li?”  He cards his hands through his quiff and frowns, his eyes fixated to one key on the piano.  

“I..just..I don’t understand, Z.”  Zayn’s mind works quickly, trying to decipher Liam’s words.  He says nothing, waiting for Liam to go on.  “What is this?  You know, I thought we were--’m not sure, I thought we were something, yeah?  And now I’m just sort of confused because you left a year ago, but I don’t know if you ended what we were doing.  I don’t know if you ended us.  I don’t even know if there was an us to begin with, and I just don’t get it.  I’m really happy for you, Zee, I really am, but I just want some answers.  I’ve given you time to cope and fuck, I’ve never been more proud of you in my life, but I need to know.”  And it just spills all out of Liam.  It’s so easy, the words just come out, as if he’s been rehearsing this mantra for months.

But Zayn hasn’t prepared himself for the answer.  He knew it was coming, but every time he thought about it, he got scared.

He starts off carefully, choosing every word particularly.  He’s never been good with words, never understood why he wanted to be an English teacher when he was so shit with forming sentences.  “On the album, there’s a song called Fool For You.”

Liam nods. “The piano ballad one, yeah.”

“It’s about you.  Liam, leaving the band, leaving you, has killed me.  It’s been scary, you know?  Getting those tweets from the fans or summat about how much I crushed them.  But, fuck, they don’t know what I’ve gone through, Liam.  It’s been hell not being able to talk to the lads, to talk to you, like we used to.  You don’t know how many times I’ve woken up and expected to find you next to me and you’re not.  You just aren’t.  And I wish I had said something in the times where we were together, just said something that would clear it up.  That would make it official.  Because, Li, I just--”

Zayn’s cut off with a passionate, hard kiss from Liam.  Their teeth clash at first but Zayn doesn’t care because he misses this.  He misses the taste of Liam, almost a sickeningly sweet taste of honey mixed with cigarette smoke.  His arms wrap around the back of Liam’s neck, pulling in closer, as he licks into Liam’s mouth.  The man lets out a moan.

Liam pulls away and breathes harshly, panting out a “Bedroom?”  Zayn grunts in acknowledgement and they’re back together again.  Zayn’s pushed against a wall as they make their way down the hall, Liam’s lips back on his,  He nips on Zayn’s lower lip, resulting in a sharp gasp from Zayn.

Liam presses his forehead to Zayn’s, a bit breathless.  “Fuck, missed this, Zayn.”  He grinds his hips up, Zayn moaning loudly in response.  “Missed you so bad.”

“Fuck, c’mere,” Zayn whimpers, pulling Liam back again.  He just wants him, not knowing the next time they’ll be together.

They finally make it to the bedroom, falling together in a tangle of limbs onto the bed.  Zayn thrusts up, rubbing their clothed cocks together and searching for friction.  Liam lets out a deep groan, grinding back.

He trails kisses down the sides of Liam’s neck, stopping on his birthmark.  He bites on it, licking over the fresh bruise.  Zayn pushes Liam down and straddles him, grinding down into his clothed cock and fumbling with the buckle of his belt.

“Fuck,” he hisses, “too many clothes, Li.”  In a hurry, Liam props himself up and strips his shirt off, Zayn mirroring him.  Zayn feels his breath escape him as he looks down at Liam’s shirtless body.  He forgot how beautiful Liam was, his muscles so defined in the poor lighting of his bedroom.  

“Shit,” Zayn breathes out.  Liam moans under Zayn’s penetrating stare.

“C’mon, now, c’mon,” Liam pants out, and Zayn ducks down to capture his lips in a kiss, rubbing his hands down Liam’s sides.  Zayn wants to draw Liam out, paint him, take photos of him, write him poetry.  He’s art, something crafted by the gods themselves.  To Zayn, he resembles a Greek statue, flawless and eternal.  Zayn makes sure to memorize every curve, every muscle, every inch of his skin so he never forgets.

He kisses down to the center of Liam’s chest, his hands moving lower to palm at his bulge.  “God, Zayn, so good f’ me,” Liam says, Zayn only moaning in response.  He moves to Liam’s nipple, sucking hard on it and swirling his tongue around the hardening bud.  Liam twists his face into his arm, his mouth hung open from the pleasure, this feeling of being overwhelmed by Zayn.

He takes the other nipple into his mouth and bites gently on it, another cry coming from Liam.  “Babe, please.  ‘M so hard for you.  Want that pretty little mouth of yours.” And fuck, Zayn’s missed Liam’s dirty mouth.  Almost forgot how hard it made him.  He whimpers around the bud and quickly kisses his way down to Liam’s jeans.  He hastily undoes the buckle, practically yanking down his zipper.  Liam pushes his hips upward, the two of them giggling at how childish this is.  They’re like horny teenagers, desperate to get off.  It’s thrilling and nostalgic, how reminiscent this scene is of when the two had first done this during the X-Factor days.

Finally, God, finally, they manage to get Liam’s jeans off (“you and your bloody jeans,” Zayn murmurs, eliciting another laugh from Liam) and Zayn feels his mouth water at the sight of Liam’s bulge covered by his boxers.  He plays with the waistband of his boxers, loving the way that Liam gets restless and strains for more contact.  “Such a fucking tease,” he huffs through clenched teeth as Zayn smirks down at Liam’s writhing state.  He sees Liam’s hand go to do it himself, but he grabs it and pins it above his head.

“C’mon, Li, I don’t think so,” Zayn chuckles evilly.  Liam only groans in response.

Eventually, Zayn takes him and pulls down the waistband to reveal Liam’s cock, curved toward Liam’s stomach and glistening at the head with pre-come.  Zayn licks it, gently at first, almost like kitten licks to the head.  He laps at the pre-come, revelling in the tangy, bitter taste of Liam’s come.  He hums at the familiar taste and wraps his mouth around the head, tonguing at the slit.  

Liam’s a mess above him, fidgeting with every vibration Zayn releases against his cock.  His eyes are screwed tight, his mouth letting out these beautiful gasps and moans.  He shivers in pleasure as Zayn swallows him down further, his tongue tracing the large vein on the underside of his dick with his tongue.  His teeth lightly graze his cock, causing another long-drawn moan from Liam.  He thrusts his hips into Zayn’s mouth, only a little, not wanting to choke the boy.

Zayn pulls off, a line of spit and maybe some come connecting his shiny lips and Liam’s wet cock.  “Don’t hold back, Li,” Zayn says in a rough voice, almost gravelly.  Liam tentatively moves his hands to Zayn’s head and pushes it down, letting out another groan of pleasure as the familiar, wet heat surrounds his cock again.

“Fuck, so good for me, Zayn.  Taking me cock so well.  God, I wish you could see yourself, right now, a fucking angel,” Liam babbles, carefully fucking Zayn’s face.  Zayn’s eyes are closed, his eyelashes fanned across his cheeks with hints of tears at the edges of them.  He moans around Liam’s cock as it hits the back of his throat repeatedly.  Liam’s thrusts quicken as he feels himself get close.

“‘M gonna come, Zee, fuck, so close,” Liam cries.  Zayn opens his eyes and looks sinfully at Liam, dark, wide eyes giving him full permission.  “Oh fuck--”

Liam yanks Zayn off his cock and comes in hot white streaks all across Zayn’s mouth and chin.  The come dribbles down his chin and Zayn’s tongue darts out to taste, his mouth dropping open and forming an ‘o’ shape as he comes in his pants.

“Fuck, did you just, fuck, that’s so hot.  You’re so hot,” Liam whispers, almost nonsensically has he comes down from his orgasm.

Zayn grins and says, “Hope that was alright, yeah?  Didn’t lose my touch or summat?”

Liam throws his head back and chuckles.  “Are you kidding me?  Bloody fantastic, it was.”

_ March, the album release _

They talk often, Zayn occasionally mentioning Liam here and there.  They could never risk being seen in public together, having already almost been caught even when they tried to get their early morning coffee together.  So, they resorted to talking over the phone often, alternating between casual chit chat and heated phone sex.

But tonight’s conversation was different.  “I’m scared.  What if they hate the album?” he whispers, hushed and queit.

Liam replies, “They could never, Zee.  I’ve listened to it and it’s fucking amazing.  Everyone’ll love the album, I swear.”

“Are you in New York?  Do you think you could come by the release party?  I could really use you there, babe.”

Liam chuckles, “Yeah, I’d let you use me too.  And I wish I could, but I’m on management duties.  ‘M with Cheryl.”  Zayn feels a flare of jealousy in the pit of his stomach, but quickly dismisses it.  It’s not anything new.  It’s stunt business.  All the boys have done it--Harry with Taylor, Louis with Eleanor, even Zayn with Gigi right now.  Just business.  Sometimes Zayn has to remind himself multiple times.

“Alright,” Zayn grumbles, a bit disappointed.

“Hey,” Liam says quietly, intimately.  “You’ll be amazing, yeah?  You’re one of the most talented people I know, Zayn.  I’ll try and be there, alright?”

Zayn nods, then realizes that Liam can’t see him.  “Yeah, okay, yeah.”

“Love you, Z, bye,” and the phone call drops, leaving Zayn stunned.  The phrase repeats over and over in his mind.  ‘Love you’.

. . .

“So fucking good, babe,” Liam grunts into Zayn’s mouth as he undoes his jeans.  “So proud of you, told you you’d be great.”

“Fuck, Liam,” Zayn pants as Liam rubs him through his clothed cock.  He bites back another whimper as Liam wastes no time in pulling his boxers down and stroking him.

Liam nips at the side of his neck, twisting his hand the way Zayn likes it.  “Gonna make you feel so good tonight, baby.  Give you all you deserve.  What do you want tonight?  Want me to eat you out, lick your hole til you’re whimpering and coming f’ me untouched?  Want me to fuck your mouth?”

Zayn gasps as Liam bites harshly on his nipple, “Fuck me.”  Liam lets out a primal growl, leading Zayn from the wall to the bed.  

“Fuck, okay,” Liam moans, fumbling for the lube he placed somewhere on the bed.  He positions Zayn just right, his legs thrown over his shoulders, back on the bed, hands around Liam’s neck to pull him close.  “When was the last time you did this, baby?”

Zayn knows what he’s doing, can sense the jealousy Liam feels.  “Not since--” he lets out a sharp gasp as he feels a cold, wet finger prod against his hole, “not since I left.”

Liam moans at the response, “Good.”  He presses open mouthed kisses to the center of Zayn’s chest as his finger pushes in a little more, up to his second knuckle.

“Can take more, Li,” Zayn complains, shifting back onto his finger.  “‘M not fragile.”  Liam takes that as a sign to be rough, adding a second finger.  He stretches Zayn, scissoring his fingers and watching Zayn’s face in awe as it contorts quickly from pain to pleasure, his mouth panting Liam’s name over and over again.

He curves his fingers, searching for that bundle of nerves.  When he finds it, he rubs against it, almost teasingly.  Zayn lets out a whimper and writhes on the bed, his cock spurting out blurbs of pre-come.  “Fuck,” he whines, “please.”

“Shh, baby, I got you,” Liam responds, kissing Zayn again as he works in a third finger.  He moans at the burn, the stretch, but quickly gets accustomed to it.  Soon enough he’s swivelling his hips, pushing onto Liam’s fingers as they pump in and out of him.

“‘M ready, Li,” Zayn says impatiently, his hands grasping at the sheets.  Liam goes to pull out a condom, but Zayn grabs his bicep, shaking his head.  There’s a faint sheen of sweat over his face, red from blushing.  His hair is somewhat damp, and he shakes his head again.

“Don’t need it, wanna feel you.”

“Oh fuck,” Liam groans, grabbing his cock and guiding it to Zayn’s hole.  “Tell me if it hurts, yeah?  Don’t wanna hurt you.”  Zayn nods, letting out a whimper as he feels the head of Liam’s cock press in.

“Fuck, feels so good, Li, missed your big cock,” Zayn mewls.  Liam grunts in response, his head thrown back and mouth dropped in pleasure as he’s engulfed with the heat of Zayn.

“So tight, baby.  Haven’t been fucked by anyone but me.”  Liam’s hands hold Zayn’s hips almost possesively, pressing bruises into his sides the way he knows Zayn likes.

“C’mon, Liam,” Zayn groans fervently.  He waits until he bottoms out and draws his hips back, snapping into him quickly.  He draws a sharp gasp from Zayn, repeating the motion.  He watches Zayn’s face, so beautiful as he lets out these little whimpers and groans, eyebrows drawn tightly together and teeth bit down harshly against his bottom lip.

“Wanna hear you, babe,” Liam commands, dicking faster into Zayn.  “Let me hear you.”  Zayn lets out a loud groan as Liam changes the angle, hitting Zayn’s prostrate just right.  The room is filled with moans and the slapping of skin on skin.  “Feel so good, you’re so tight, shit.”

“Fuck, Liam, so close.”

Liam fucks Zayn harder, not failing to hit Zayn just right every time.  He feels his muscles clench around him, his moans just becoming an incoherent mantra.  Liam loves it, loves how he gets so consumed by Zayn, how insatiable and raw it all is.  How badly he wants Zayn.   He’s too busy thrusting into Liam that only now he realizes what Zayn’s saying.

“Fucking love you, oh God, fuck, love you, Li, love you.”  Liam takes a hold of Zayn’s cock and strokes him, growling with a possessiveness.

Zayn comes with a cry, his muscles tightening around Liam so that he can see stars behind his eyelids.  His body convulses and his toes curl from the pure ecstasy and pleasure.  “Love you so much, fuck.”

Liam drives faster into Zayn, fucking him through his orgasm, until he feels himself coming.  He groans a “love you, too” pulling out when he finishes.  He watches in awe as the come drips out of Zayn’s abused hole.

They cuddle on the bed after that, exhausted and worn out.  Liam kisses the top of Zayn’s head, his eyelids half-closed as he’s overwhelmed with sleep.  He barely registers the small whisper of, “I love you.”

. . .

The next morning, Zayn wakes up wrapped in the familiar warmth of Liam’s arms.  He watches with fond-filled eyes at this sleeping giant lying so peacefully next to him.  And fuck, there it is.  That feeling of love, the one he had so cruelly rejected last year, heartlessly shoved to the side as he focused on himself.  But he had admitted it last night, put it in the air for both of them to hear.  

Liam wakes up, eyes blinking slowly as he takes in the scene.  “Morning, you donut,” Zayn teases, doing his signature smile, with his tongue pushed against his teeth.  Liam can’t help but grin in return.

“Missed you,” he says, pecking Zayn on the nose.

“Missed you, too,” Zayn says, returning the kiss.  

And Liam just goes for it.  “You love me?”  Zayn breathes sharply, tensing.  But then he remembers, how Liam had made sure he was okay.  How Liam had repeated the words back without hesitance.  How he had felt.

“Yeah,” he whispers unabashedly, “I do.

“I love you, too.”

And the two of them stay like that, whispering their apologies, catching up on what they had missed.  “I’ll always be here, Zee, right next to you.”

“Right next to you, Liam.”

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](liittlemix.tumblr.com)


End file.
